Passing
by okaie
Summary: It seems that they always pass each other when they need each other the most.
1. Chapter 1

**Passing**

_It seems that they always pass each other when they need each other the most._

I haven't published anything for a while, and I certainly haven't published anything in the "Glee" fandom before. But it's my newest obsession so after I wrote this, I figured I might as well give it a shot and publish. Hope you enjoy it, at least a little.

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Chapter 1

Staring at the golden stars plastering her locker, she stiffened, squaring her shoulders. Biting her lip delicately, she nodded resolutely, as if making an unbreakable vow. She was. It was a requirement. Rachel Berry would be star.

Closing her locker, she fell back, her head tipping back against the cool metal. She breathed deeply, her eyes closing luxuriously. It was her spotlight, hot in her face. She was adored and sought after. Sought after by boys like…

Her eyes flickered, still shut, because she dreaded opening her eyes to affirm what she already knew. How could she not? Chilly and hard, like getting slapped with an iceberg; of course she had been humiliated again. Yet, she no longer seethed as she once had. Her wardrobe was built to withstand the permanent stains; built to create enough outfits to last for a month. No, all she felt now, sagging, was disconsolate.

But stars did not slouch. Standing rigidly, her tongue probed speculatively. Grape. Her eyes opened, slowly, to prevent the burning sensation of corn syrup. Her head turned, searching for the tell-tale cup.

"'Sup Berry?" a boy catcalled, walking backward with smirk as he disappeared into the crowd. "I thought you liked grape?"

She had dated him once. Though admittedly, only for a few days. She had thought, perhaps, after landing a boyfriend like him, she would not get harassed. Maybe she would finally be treated… like everyone else. Was it sad, that all she wanted was to be treated like a normal girl? Because stars did not get slushie facials. And just as Noah Puckerman had demonstrated, she was no star.

He broke her spirit, just in passing.

* * *

Slumped against the wall, he hid his face because he looked nothing like Puck. Puck would not care. Puck would not care that he would have no part in the upbringing of a special little girl. Puck would not care, because it would mean that he would have no responsibility. Puck would not care. And Puck would not feel like crying. But Noah did.

Noah would cry. Noah would beg to be a part of everything. To be a part of his little girl's life. Noah would…

But Puck beat Noah into submission. Puck would throw a slushie in Rachel Berry's face because someone had to feel worse than him. But Puck would never admit he threw a slushie to make someone else feel worse because he felt pathetic. No, Puck would throw a slushie because it was funny. He would throw a slushie because he could. He would throw a slushie because he was a badass.

So Puck stood up, just as he thought he should – straight, tall, and manly. Puck punched a locker and nodded at the respectable dent. But he didn't punch a locker because he was upset. He punched a locker because he was strong.

A badass would walk away like it was no big deal. He did not move. He kept staring at the dent, vulnerable. He felt like his world had come crashing down, and he did not know how to move on. Noah looked at the dent, and bowed his head forward. His forehead touched the icy steel as his fists blindly pounded whosever locker happened to be in reach.

A soft hand fell upon his, curling around his fist lightly, as if to stop it, but not knowing how. "Yes?" he growled, not turning around, because there just might have been moisture in his eyes.

"Sor-sorry," a familiar voice squeaked fearfully, but the hand remained on his.

He shut his eyes slowly, using his other hand to rub his temples, not to wipe his eyes. Sighing, his frame heaved before he threw the hand off of his and peered behind him. "Yes?" he repeated, looking at Rachel Berry like she was crazy. She was.

She looked at him blankly, her eyes searching his face, wide with bewilderment.

Puck would've stormed past her, "accidentally," banging into her as he stomped by. But Noah still could not move. "What?" he said through gritted teeth. "Unless you've got something that's pretty fucking important to say to me…"

"Are you okay?" she inquired timidly. Her eyes would not leave his face.

"Fine," he snarled venomously.

She flinched. "Oh… it's just…" she started, faltering as she looked away.

Noah realized he was being exceptionally rude. "Sorry," he said gruffly, "I've just got some shit to deal with."

She stepped away, but started looking at him again. She was never usually so quiet.

"What?" he said, exasperated. "Just go on and say whatever the fuck you want to say, Berry. I don't have the time to stand here entertaining your crazy thoughts all day."

She swallowed, frowning deeply, her brow creased. "It's just you looked so demure, Noah. I was wondering if you needed a trained ear to pour your problems out to. I must say that when needed, I would be an exceptional listener. Obviously, I would not expect you to tell me anything considering… the circumstances. However, as a person who is determined to be labeled a "Good Samaritan" by the ever-present press, if you ever find that you need someone to talk to…"

"Shit Berry, I got it. I can tell you shit. Thanks. Now will you go?" Puck looked down at her expectantly.

"Oh… okay…" She looked dejected.

He realized that she did not need to be so nice. He had thrown a slushie in her face, the ultimate humiliation at McKinley High, only hours ago. Noah felt ashamed. "I'm…" Noah started, rubbing the back of his head. But he found could not finish. Puck's reputation would not allow it. Sorry? Puck was not sorry. He had thrown a slushie in Rachel Berry's face, just as the world order dictated. Puck knew that to be on top, he had to act like he was on top. High school was a war; slushie or be slushied.

She was looking at him, waiting for him to finish.

"I'm fine," he said decidedly, eyes flashing. "Fine."

"Oh, okay…" She paused, drinking in the perturbed expression on his face. "I wasn't spying on you, I swear," she said quickly. "You were just pounding on my locker, so I… I just wanted to make sure everything was okay." Her fingers lightly brushed his arm. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he said, his heart tightening.

She nodded.

He nodded.

They stared.

"Well," she said finally, fidgeting, "I hope you soon find that you are well." She gave him a look that he could not seem to place. She looked at him as if she knew… him. "Farewell, Noah."

Noah watched Rachel Berry walk away, reminding him that someone had cared, and he had thrown a slushie in her face. "Sorry…" he whispered to the air. Just in passing, he was reminded that he was a Lima loser.

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_Reviews (really) make my day._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nothing changed. Not really, anyway. She was the star for a few brief minutes as New Directions stormed the stage at Sectionals. As she had basked in the adulation of the crowd, she felt that everything might turn out just right. But then they won, and while she squealed with delight as "New Directions!" was echoed throughout the auditorium, she turned to find that she was alone. Because Mercedes and Kurt were hugging; Tina and Artie were looking at each other, expressions softer than they had been for a long time; Mike, Matt, and Finn were fist-bumping; Quinn, Santana, and Brittney were chattering excitedly.

So, despite the cheering of the crowd, and the spotlight hot in her face, Rachel Berry felt alone. It was too much. The blinding light no longer seemed to highlight her amazing performance in gold stars; rather, it demonstrated the fact that she was forlorn and unloved. The spotlight showed the world everything she hated about herself.

Like everything else in her life, she had craved the limelight with a kind of intensity that could only be obsession. She was obsessed with everything in her life. And just like everything else, when she finally got what she wanted, it was nothing that she wanted at all.

As the star, she had never wanted to share. As the star, she imagined herself only. But standing there alone, she knew she was not the star. They were the stars. Those people who laughed and cried out with joy together. They had friends; they were popular. She had neither. She had somehow forgotten that being a star was not just about being the best; she had somehow forgotten that to be a star, she needed someone to love her too.

* * *

He was alone too. Shunned by Quinn, though he had offered everything he had, shunned by Finn, because he had taken away everything he had.

So he did not really care that they won Sectionals. Sure, Glee Club would continue, but the only reason he had joined Glee Club in the first place was to show Quinn that he was the right choice. Now that she had rejected him, what was the point? Why was he even here today?

He had hoped that winning would fill in the widening gorge between him and Finn, between him and Quinn. But as he surveyed the motley crew with a sinking feeling in his stomach, nothing changed. They had won, and Quinn was still ignoring him. They had won, and Finn was still ignoring him.

He forced himself to look around, and found that he was vulnerably staring into the wide brown eyes of a certain Rachel Berry. But he did not look away. She had beautiful eyes; not that Puck would be caught dead saying that. He wasn't even sure why he was thinking it. Peering into her eyes, she looked just as alone as he did and she gave him a sad smile. They were both alone; together.

* * *

She sat next to him on the bus ride home. "Can I sit with you?" she had asked, unsure. Except for a noncommittal jerk of his head, he did not reply. They just looked at each other, and then away again.

Silence, and then, "Noah…"

He grunted.

"It… it sucks. All of it sucks."

He did not reply, because he did not want to agree.

She kept talking. He barely heard her. "…might as well throw our very own pity party," she suggested, laughing dejectedly.

He laughed acridly. "Yeah, Berry, because winning Sectionals was not all you talked about for the past months. Such a pity we won." But he looked at her, and knew that winning wasn't at all what she wanted, what she needed. He frowned. It was not what he needed either. "It does suck," he muttered quietly, just loud enough for her to hear, yet his anger punctuated every word. "But there's nothing I can fucking do about it." He turned away and she placed her hand on his, squeezing lightly. He squeezed back. She did not say anything again, but because he needed her to, she held his hand for the rest of the bus ride.

The next Monday, Quinn still didn't want him and Finn wouldn't talk to him. He didn't know why, but when he saw Rachel Berry's eyes disappear under a haze of dread, he (carefully) shoved the damn slushie in her hands.

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_A/N: Sorry it took me a while to update. I went on vacation with no computer access. But anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed and I hope everyone enjoyed!_

_Review? Pretty please?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

On Tuesday, Rachel was with Finn. Maybe all of her dreams would come true. He apologized for ignoring her on Saturday. He told her, in much simpler words, that he was just so exuberant that something good finally happened that he forgot to tell her she had done an extraordinary job. It was not the type of heart-wrenching speech that she would have preferred, but she ultimately decided, it would do.

Finn was not the best boyfriend. He often forgot about their dates or forgot what she was talking about. But she understood. At least he was there, and wasn't that the premise that relationships were built upon? The fact that the one person was always there for the other?

But because she was desperate not to lose Finn the way that Quinn had, she launched head-first into a plan that included matching kitty calendars and a "Team Finn" t-shirt. Finally, there was somebody who would associate with her in a way that did not ruin her clothes.

* * *

It was amazing, how she pestered him. The Monday after Sectionals she had ignored him; by Wednesday, she asked him to attend the next ultrasound. He couldn't refuse; after all, this is what he had wanted since he had first laid eyes on pretty and popular Quinn Fabray in seventh grade.

So expediently, he did not notice that she would only kiss him when Rachel or Finn rounded the corner. He did not notice that it was the Tuesday after Sectionals, when Rachel first held Finn's hand, that she had come over to confess that she might have judged him too harshly. He did not notice that she tried to talk to Finn every day and that she criticized everything that Rachel Berry did, especially when it came to Finn. He found it was best to just nod and agree. But he had not tormented (slushied) Rachel since before Sectionals.

Puck wasn't going soft. He just did not slushie Rachel Berry since that disastrous Friday before Sectionals because she was the one who got Finn away from Quinn. Not that he noticed. He was used to not noticing things. Like the fact that every girl he wanted was in love with Finn Hudson.

He wanted to be able to talk to Finn again. Finn and Noah had been inseparable best friends since they met in middle school and realized that neither of them had a father. But fuck, it was hard not to hate Finn when Quinn would nag, telling him that Finn had gotten her ice cream at three o'clock in the morning and Finn would let her supersize all the McDonald's meals she wanted when Puck told her that he didn't "dig on fat chicks."

Secretly though, Noah had no problem with Quinn eating as much as she wanted, as long as it wasn't noxious fast food. He knew he was holding her up to a double standard because he supersized every meal, but fuck it, he wanted his baby healthy… even if it wasn't going to be his to keep.

* * *

Finn broke up with her for the stupidest reason. He told her he needed to "explore his inner rock star." For some reason, she cried even though the little voice in her head had told her it was never meant to last.

But it still hurt when she saw him groom his eyebrows and chase after Santana and Brittney. Though, how could she really be surprised? He was _the_ jock at McKinley, quarterback and captain of the basketball team, and they were the two most sought after girls at McKinley, especially since Santana had been elevated to head cheerleader. Rachel was never sought out by anybody.

* * *

Quinn broke up with him. "I'm sorry," she had told him, pulling him aside after watching the explosive aftermath of Finn and Rachel's break-up during Glee. "I want you to be involved in the baby's life, but I just don't think we're going to work out." Then she walked away.

He stood there numb, desperately trying to figure out why he cared. He was the fucking stud of the school, and now that Quinn had dropped him, he could chase (and bed) any girl within range, no strings attached. Maybe it was the way she blew him off. She wasn't trying to be mean about it; she was just ripping the band-aid off quickly. But it was the finality of her statement, the lack of emotion when she spoke, that really got to him. Puck slammed his fists into the wall; he was always second-best.

"Noah?" a fragile voice echoed through the empty halls.

"Absolutely fine," he said, turning to answering her unspoken question. Her eyes met his searchingly. She knew. "You?"

She bit her lip delicately, shrugging as tears welled up in her eyes. "I don't know… maybe." She laughed bitterly. "It wasn't a fairytale, but… it was nice…"

"With him?" he probed incredulously, unsure why he gave a damn. "Finn's been my… Finn was a jackass."

Her head ducked down, fists clenching down at her side. "Thanks, it's nice to know how much he actually liked me."

He knew had fucked up. "Oh…" he started, rubbing the back of his head. "I mean… "

"Forget it."

His brow creased. Rachel Berry never "forgot" anything.

"Just forget it, okay? I knew it was a long-shot to begin with. I'm not popular or pretty like Quinn and Santana. I'm not even well liked. I know it, you know it. Can we please move on? Because I'm sick of hearing how much I'm not liked." Her frame quivered intensely.

"Berry…"

"I'm sorry. I know. I'll go. I need to walk home anyway. I just…"

"Fuck, Rachel. I get it, okay? Quinn just…" Clenching his fist, he didn't finish.

Despite the tears that had clouded her eyes, he was sure, from her piercing gaze, that she saw him quite clearly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It would've never worked out anyway. She always liked…"

"Finn." Rachel turned, raising her hand to blot her eyes as she walked away.

He nodded to her back, and his hand slackened unconsciously. Noah just talked to Rachel Berry about emotional shit. How un-badass of him. "Berry?" he called softly.

She stopped, squaring her shoulders as she turned to him. "Don't worry, I will never mention this."

"Do you need a ride home?" Later, upon further reflection, Noah Puckerman would check to see if he had grown a vagina.

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Review please!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She was pretty sure she was destined to be a star; especially since her life had taken on a quality akin to a soap opera.

For one, it almost seemed destined that the dream coupling of Finn and Rachel would only work when one of the two was in another relationship. Oddly, in this case, it was Rachel who turned Finn down in favor of another. Plus, in a major bonus, the boy who willingly linked himself to her name was none other than Jesse St. James – the undeniably (more) talented (than Finn) lead of Vocal Adrenaline.

Rachel was pretty sure that she had met her match in Jesse. It seemed blatantly obvious that they were kindred spirits – both enormously talented with a propensity for the dramatic. He would accept her idiosyncrasies rather than frown like others (Finn) would. In short, together, it would not be too pompous to suggest that "St. Berry" (as she liked to think of as their couple name) could be the next Broadway it-couple.

It was by no means a perfect relationship – she never told him, but his comment about her rendition of "Don't Rain on My Parade" haunted her. She wasn't trying to be the next Barbra Streisand anyway – she wanted to be the next _Rachel Berry_. Of course, to establish that goal she had to at least be able to be on par with Barbra (if not surpass her). He meant her no harm, she was sure, when he criticized her performances (especially the ones that she had thought were her absolute best). It was just wearing to always be told "no, not good enough," though she knew he was only telling her for her own benefit and self-improvement.

But there was also her (hushed) relationship with a third boy – Noah. It was peculiar in the fact that despite her previous attempts to immediately solidify her relationships with others, this relationship was undefined to the point where she was not even sure they were friends. Without fail, he would give her a ride home from every Glee practice, even (a no during their… _fling_) allowing her to choose a radio station once in a while (when he wasn't introducing her to "superior" music). There was not much more to their relationship besides small talk in the car, but for some reason when it was just Noah and Rachel in a truck, he was, she was, they were normal. He was not (completely) emotionally stunted and she was not (completely) overbearing. In all her drive for the fantastic and the over-the-top, she found that just feeling _ordinary_ was just about perfect.

Of course, he was never anyone but Puck around everyone else. Granted, he no longer threw slushies at her, but he never acknowledged her existence, let alone their admittedly limited connection. Though disappointed, she wasn't offended – their relationship, and by extension, Noah, existed solely in the bubble of his truck; but it was more than before.

* * *

Puck was a stud, obviously (just look at those chiseled features), so he had no problem with sex. In fact, it was his favorite thing to do. It would be hypocritical of him to be against someone else getting any (as long as it did not interfere with him). Still, this time, he could hardly stand it.

He wasn't supposed to have known. He did know that Rachel and Jesse St. Jackass were dating; she had confided that to him when he was driving her home after Glee practice one day. Even Finn didn't know they were dating. But she hadn't told him that St. Douchebag was pressuring her. In all fairness, she didn't really tell anyone. Of course, he didn't expect her to go to the girls in Glee club with her problems. She wasn't exactly popular with any of them. But still, she hadn't told _him_. Not that he particularly cared to know the inner workings of Rachel's relationships (they both liked the Wiggle's for fuck's sake). He didn't mean to hear about it anyway. He just happened to be passing by the Choir Room when he heard her voice float into the hallway.

Do it? With St. Jerkoff? Why the fuck would anyone do that? Even if he was just about everything Rachel could want (who the fuck is able to get a full music scholarship to a school like UCLA?). Still, he couldn't imagine Rachel being loose enough to do it (with St. Bastard). It wasn't that she wasn't hot (the slushie attacks, though regrettable, did provide a nice clear view of her boobs), it was just, _Rachel Berry_. It didn't seem right to let someone as incapable as St. Asshole (didn't matter how many times the dude had done it, Puck was sure he was terrible) to take away anyone's virginity (especially Rachel's).

He wasn't concerned about Rachel, obviously. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted; Noah had no attachment to her. But St. Dickwad should never get any. He didn't say anything to Rachel (because he figured she should do whatever made her happy and by extension, Glee club safe), but privately, he agreed with the others. Don't date the enemy. Especially in a scenario where you end up fucking the enemy (when does that ever end well?) and making the lead more smug than ever. As much as a badass that Puck was, he was not about to lose to the pansy-ass Vocal Adrenaline at Regionals. That's obviously the reason why he's so against Rachel sleeping with St. Shithead.

* * *

"Coming?" he asked gruffly, taking Rachel's pink trolley bag from her as he walked determinedly to his truck.

"Of course," she breathed, shuffling to catch up.

They walked in silence.

Noah threw her bag into his trunk and opened the door for her (a first, actually).

"Thank you," she said, smiling slightly.

He shrugged noncommittally. He was not entirely sure what to say to her. He had actually known for a few days, but he had not known how to bring it up the fact that he knew that she might sleep with… _him._ He started the truck.

Her lips pursed after a few moments of silence. "Noah," she started softly, "are you okay?"

His jaw clenched. "Don't, Berry, okay," he managed to spit out. "Just don't."

Her eyes widened slightly. "I'm sorry Noah, but I really have no idea what you're talking about." Her head tilted toward him, pressing him to go on.

Licking his lips, he stared resolutely at the road ahead. "I…" his fingers ran nervously through the strip of his badass Mohawk. "I overheard you the other day." He paused. "Totally by accident of course. I was just walking by the choir room and you were talking, and shit, I heard, okay?" His voice was hoarse and intense.

"Oh." She wasn't really sure what to say. She had considered doing it, of course. It wasn't as if she was immune to hormones that ran through every adolescent (herself included). She just imagined her first time would be something special and romantic – that night with Jesse, when the idea was first brought up, while fun, was just a night. But she had seen him again, after talking to the girls, and he had promised her that she deserved no less than "epic romance." Wasn't that everything she wanted?

"Why aren't you saying anything?" he asked carefully.

"What do you want me to say?"

He paused. "Just don't sleep with him." He stole a glance at her. Her fingers twirled through her hair and her brow furrowed.

"Why?"

"Why would you want to?" His turned his face to stare at her.

She looks at him, surprised to find that he's gazing intensely at her. "He's my boyfriend."

"So? That doesn't mean you've got to sleep with him."

She nodded slightly, and he turned away. After a beat, she turned to him again, studying his profile. "Noah," she whispered, "was your first time special?"

It was only special in the fact that he had succeeded in losing his virginity at the tender age of fourteen. Her name had been Lauren Wagner and she was sixteen years old (also drunk and easy). He didn't really regret it. It hadn't meant anything to him, but he had fucked so many other girls that didn't mean anything to him since then, it just kind of seemed like his style. "No," he told her honestly, not looking at her, "it wasn't special."

"I want my first time to be special," she confessed, tilting her head forward so that her hair fell like a curtain around her face.

He looked at her, though he wasn't sure if she could tell. "It should be special."

Rachel didn't say anything.

Noah cleared his throat nervously. "Is he special?"

She shrugged hesitantly. "He might be. I think so. I really do like him."

His eyebrow rose questioningly. "He isn't then. Don't do it with him."

"He… he told me that he's willing to wait," she murmured softly.

"You think he's going to be around that long?" Noah asked pointedly, his face a mask of aggravation. "You don't understand... guys are all after one thing – a good fuck."

"Why wouldn't he?" Rachel glared at him, eyes fiery, teeth clenched. "Are you insinuating that he wouldn't want to stick around? I know I'm not the easiest person to date – I can be annoying, uptight, and high maintenance, but just because some guys can't handle me doesn't mean that nobody wants me. And Jesse wants me. He's willing to wait for me. Despite what everybody thinks, I am a girl who deserves to be treated right. He's promised me romance, epic romance, actually, and you know what, that's more than anyone has ever offered me before. Not everyone throws slushies in my face and thinks that's all Rachel Berry deserves." Her fingers wound tightly around the door handle as she seethed.

"Well, fuck woman, I wasn't saying you don't deserve it!" Puck spluttered. "I said it should be special for fuck's sake. Stop overreacting about fucking everything. And for the fucking record, I thought you got the fucking message that I would never throw a slushie at you again." His voice was sharper than he meant it to be.

"I'm sorry, but thrusting a slushie in my hand every time you feel bad does not count as an apology." She swung the door open as he slowed at a traffic light.

"What the fuck are you doing? We're not even at your house yet!" he roared.

She looked at him lividly. "I'll walk."

"It's the middle of the fucking winter and the skirt you have on barely covers your ass."

She clambered out, turning to face him furiously. "Are you calling me a slut?"

"No, just get in the fucking truck! You'll freeze to death and get run over because you're a midget." His eyes flicked to the traffic light (it was green) as cars began to beep before gazing at her once again.

She huffed derisively. "You know, you really have a way with words. Insulting me does not elevate you in my eyes. Some girls may like that, but I prefer to be treated like a lady."

"And that _douchebag _treats you like a lady? After he pressured you and just took off?" The road was a symphony of curses and beeps. He stuck a collective finger out the window, never taking his eyes off of Rachel.

"He apologized to me," she spat, "in person, with words, like an adult. And he treats me better than you have." She slammed the door shut (he hated that).

"Fuck!" he yelled, banging his hands on the wheel as he threw his truck into park and bounded out. "Get in the truck, Berry!"

She glared at him, continuing to struggle in her attempts to retrieve her trolley bag from the bed of his truck.

"Look, you can't get it and I'm not getting it for you, so get back into the truck," Noah said through his teeth, working to maintain his temper. "Just let me drive you home."

Her anger with him had already overrode her trepidation of the bitter wind. "No," she snapped. "I don't want to be around you any longer." Her fingers finally curled around the handle of her bag and she tugged it out (much less carefully than she knew she should have around his _precious_truck). "Jesse and I have something special together, and I will not allow you to insult him, me, or _us_ any longer." She stormed off, her hair whipping in the wind.

"He's such a fucking jackass, Berry!" he bellowed after her, his hands clenched into fists.

It was funny. In Noah's attempt to convince Rachel not to sleep with Jesse St. Asswipe, he convinced her to sleep with him. "He doesn't deserve you," Noah griped to the frigid, winter air.

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**A/N: ****I hope you enjoyed ****this****! ****Thank you to everyone who reviewed, alerted, and favorite****d****this story. ****It means a lot to know that people are actually reading. ****:) ****Reviews are greatly appreciated.**


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